


Filtering Through Insecurity

by chucks_prophet



Category: PUBLIC the Band
Genre: Backstage, Band Fic, Cute, Filters, Fluff, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, inspired by instagram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22765135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: His eyes dart back down to the filter wheel. What’s one more round?“Matt!” Ben yells as he journeys down the hallway leading to the stage, smacking his drumsticks. Following suit is John, who’s been surprisingly quiet in between set change. Usually he’s encouraging everyone else to sing and drink a little before their show. Instead, he’s been on his phone. Probably texting that girl he’s been steadily seeing going by the dopey smile on his face. “C’mon! Let’s go!”
Relationships: John Vaughn/Matt Alvarado
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Filtering Through Insecurity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingmyowndestiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingmyowndestiel/gifts).



> So.... yeah, I went to one American Authors concert and now I'm creating a whole ship. That's it. That's the backstory.

Okay, so he got a little carried away after the first spin.

It's not like it's harmful. It's not like Matt's gonna win ten grand or go bankrupt. Or even have the chance to meet Vanna White on the correct vowel. It's an Instagram filter. _Their_ Instagram filter, no less. You either spin and land on something good, like roses or a proposal or a swipe right, or something not as good, like getting back with your ex, or... well, nothing.

Yes. Someone on their marketing team thought it was a good idea to include that as a viable option for a Valentine's Day-theme wheel—a holiday that already sucks the wallets dry of those who _have_ a Valentine and suck the last shred of hope out of those who don't.

Okay, so maybe Matt doesn't like Valentine's Day.

It’s probably his fault. He has Tinder. He has Bumble. He even had Grindr until learning it wasn't an app for coffee snobs. (He quickly realized Irish crème lattes were slang for something much bitterer.)

It's not like he has zero luck. He even manages to carry a conversation or two with a few people. Just last week, he had a date at the local music history museum in town.

At the end of the day, he chalks it up to touring and press interviews rather than his big, fat crush on his best friend and lead singer—and his ride home that night when the same date stood him up—John Vaughn.

So what's the harm in spinning a wheel... in the corner of a green room in St. Louis... for the thirteenth time?

It's not until the fourteenth he realizes he's been posting them to his story. So now everyone knows just how desperate and lonely he is.

Great. Just great.

"Hey guys,” Austin from the headlining band Magic Giant calls from the door frame. He's donning one of his usual paisley bandanas to pin up his hopelessly tangled brown hair, a t-shirt that looks like it's doubled as a cutting board, and enough bracelets on his arms to put the Silly Bandz movement in the early 2010s to shame. "Showtime in five."

“Be out in a sec.” Matt takes one last look at himself in his front-facing camera. He’s a bit paler than usual today, making the beauty mark on the sharp edge of his cheekbone – something he’s always been insecure about - stand out. Or maybe he’s always been pale and the bleach blonde made it more obvious. His stumble – the color of his weary eyes – is a little more grown out than he’d like it to be. Last night was rough. Spending Valentine’s Day alone always is.

His eyes dart back down to the filter wheel. What’s one more round?

“Matt!” Ben yells as he journeys down the hallway leading to the stage, smacking his drumsticks. Following suit is John, who’s been surprisingly quiet in between set change. Usually he’s encouraging everyone else to sing and drink a little before their show. Instead, he’s been on his phone. Probably texting that girl he’s been steadily seeing going by the dopey smile on his face. “C’mon! Let’s go!”

Without second thought, Matt clicks post and shoves his phone into his pocket. Soon, like a ship without a hull, his self-pity drowns in the unrehearsed symphony of the crowd as PUBLIC takes center stage.

**.O.**

They’re halfway in the middle of the set when John makes an announcement.

Which… isn’t unusual. John’s a good storyteller. It’s natural to veer into stories about their hometown Cincinnati and all the elaborate pranks Zac Authors has pulled on them. But “Honest” has been out for a while. They’ve played it at over a dozen stops. Unless he’s planning on going off book tonight and doing another cover song. He’s always been the more spontaneous of the two.

“Alright, this next song goes out to everyone who felt a little lonely yesterday.”

Matt can’t help but gawk from side stage. John’s wearing his usual single-color tank top, but it’s a black _mesh_ tank top. And the way the stage lights cast on him is like a life drawing composition: His entire backside is highlighted in purple, while the deep, valley-like creases in his back, shoulder blades and neck—teeming with sweat when he moves—are defined by yellow. Now Matt gets why they’re called complementary colors.

But his mouth isn’t put to good use until John—after whatever long-winded impromptu motivational tangent Matt completely missed—full-on turns to him and grins as he says, “Never stop believing there’s someone out there for you.”

He then declares he’s going acoustic for “Honest”, leaving the crowd with ample distraction for Matt to slip off his bass and run off behind stage. He pulls out his phone, and, sure enough, there’s a notification for a new Instagram DM. It’s a reply to his last story from John.

**You got it.**

Matt taps on the story. Looks like he got the “Get serenaded by Public the band” prompt from the wheel.

Oh.

_Oh._

Peaking around the corner, Matt finds John’s eyes making even more creases. He gestures with his hand for him to come back out. With a bashful smile—the complete opposite of John’s confident, self-aware smirk—Matt paddles back onto stage.

And then it’s just he and John. Like it's always been.

Well, and a couple hundred extended family members.

“Why can't you look my way?

If you want me

To be honest

You're the one I'll always crave…”


End file.
